


Replacement Therapy

by telperion_15



Series: Replacement [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Rebound Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every single time it felt like a betrayal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replacement Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for fififolle, for the prompt 'memories'.
> 
> Spoilers for episodes 3.2 and 3.3.

  
Every single time felt like a betrayal, and yet he couldn’t seem to help himself.  
  
Connor wondered if there was an acceptable amount of time to grieve before moving on to the next relationship. If there was, he knew he sure as hell hadn’t reached it. He also knew that this…thing could in no respect be called a relationship. Fast fucks in darkened corners and leaving without a word were not the stuff of a healthy emotional connection.  
  
He’d had that once, and now it was gone. Cutter was dead, and Connor knew he wasn’t coping. But he didn’t know how to change that.  
  
In his bleaker moments (not that there were many that _weren’t_ bleak), he wondered if maybe he wasn’t just trying to hang on to Cutter by latching on to Danny. The two men might have their differences, but they also had their similarities – both headstrong, both mavericks. Both older.  
  
Connor had smiled bitterly to himself, wondering what Danny would say if he knew he was just a replacement. That in this, as maybe in other ways, he was just a Cutter substitute.  
  
He was willing to bet he wouldn’t like it.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Danny burst through the infirmary doors and immediately made a beeline for the pale young man sitting on the far bed, the gash on his head being attended to by a medic while he sat there, silent and quiescent.  
  
“Jesus bloody Christ, Connor! What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed!”  
  
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.” Connor’s tone was indifferent, but Danny though he could detect a hint of defiance in the set of his shoulders.  
  
“Not. The. Point,” said Danny emphatically. “Do you have a death wish or something?”  
  
The second he’d said the words, he wished he could take them back. Connor’s wince was small but obvious, and Danny cursed his big mouth.  
  
Into the following awkward silence the medic dropped his verdict. “Apart from the cut on your forehead, and some bruising on your shoulder, you’re fine, Mr. Temple. No concussion or internal damage. Although I would say you got off _very_ luckily. Try to avoid getting in the way of angry dinosaurs in future, please.”  
  
Connor shrugged, and didn’t look up. Danny nodded quickly and gratefully at the medic, and received a bland smile in return before the man departed, no doubt to update Lester and Jenny on Connor’s injuries.  
  
Danny waited until they were alone before crouching down in front of Connor, looking up into the young man’s shuttered face. “Are you all right?” he asked quietly, wondering if he would get a response.  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
The words were blatantly untrue, and Danny stood up again, hearing his knees creak as he decided to try a different tack.  
  
“Come on, why don’t we go and get a drink? We could both do with one. Although perhaps you should stick to the non-alcoholic stuff, with the painkillers you’re probably on.”  
  
“I don’t want a drink.”  
  
“Okay, then. What _do_ you want?”  
  
“This.” Connor slid from the bed suddenly, landing a little unsteadily on his feet, but not so off-balance that he couldn’t push against Danny, crowding him backwards against the wall before Danny had even really realised what was happening.  
  
Then Connor was kissing him, hard and dirty, his hands gripping Danny’s shoulders almost painfully as he pressed the full length of his body against the other man’s.  
  
This wasn’t the first time this had happened. There had been other encounters, when they were desperate, when the adrenaline was pumping, when there was no one to notice. Danny groaned almost silently as Connor lessened his weight against him enough to slid a hand down and cup his hardening dick through his jeans.  
  
“Jesus bloody Christ, Connor…” But the words had a different emphasis now, and Danny could feel himself hardening further as he pushed against Connor as much as Connor was pushing against him.  
  
Then – he wasn’t sure exactly what had happened – Connor hissed in pain against his mouth, and Danny suddenly remembered where they were and what had happened today, and instead of pushing _against_ Connor, he was pushing him _away_.  
  
“Connor, stop, we shouldn’t be doing this…”  
  
“Why the hell not, Danny?” Connor was still fondling him through his jeans, his mouth trying to latch back on to Danny’s, but Danny wasn’t feeling it any more.  
  
“Because you’re hurt. And because…because…” Oh, what the fuck. Why not say what they both knew to be true? “Because I’m not Cutter.”  
  
Connor stilled instantly, and then stepped away. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said flatly.  
  
“I think you do. I think you know _exactly_ what I mean.” Danny had been ignoring it himself – it was easier that way – but suddenly he found he couldn’t any more. It wasn’t fair to either of them.  
  
“I don’t,” Connor insisted stubbornly, but his voice was more uncertain now, wavering slightly over the words.  
  
Danny felt his heart go out to the young man standing in front of him. Connor had seen and dealt with things that no one should have to experience, and he was handling it in the only way he knew how. Danny knew what that felt like. He could still remember some of the stupid things he’d done after his brother had first disappeared, and before he’d figured that channelling his energies into trying to find him would be a better course of action.  
  
“It’s okay, really,” he said reassuringly. “You’ve been through a lot lately. And besides, you weren’t the only one involved, remember? Taking advantage of my younger, grieving colleague isn’t exactly my finest hour.”  
  
Connor looked up at that, his face registering something like surprise. “You didn’t take advantage of me,” he said. “I wanted it.”  
  
“You don’t know _what_ you want,” Danny replied gently, silently appending the words, _although I don’t think it’s me_ to the end of the sentence.  
  
For a moment, Connor looked like he was going to argue that point, but then instead he sat back down on the bed, dropping his head into his hands. “I want it to stop hurting,” he said in a small, muffled voice.  
  
“Of course you do. And it will. I don’t know when, but I promise you it will.”  
“And what do I do in the meantime?”  
  
“Grieve,” said Danny simply. “Remember Cutter and what you had. It’ll hurt, but you shouldn’t forget him. You don’t _want_ to forget him.”  
  
“No, I don’t,” Connor agreed, still in that same small voice. Then, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have got you involved in all my messed up stuff.”  
  
“I don’t recall arguing a whole lot.” Danny hesitated. “Even though I knew it was wrong,” he added eventually. “My timing couldn’t have been worse, really.”  
  
Connor looked at him suddenly and sharply, as if realising for the first time that Danny wasn’t the sort of person to just give in to Connor’s desperate advances because he had no other choice. That he would have been more than capable of resisting Connor’s advances…if he’d wanted to.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” said Danny quickly. “Now isn’t the time to be getting into this.” He smiled tentatively. “Maybe later? _Much later_.”  
  
Connor looked like he was thinking, but then he nodded. “Okay. I think maybe I’d like that,” he replied, almost shyly. Then he smiled too. “You know, I thought you’d be angry.”  
  
“Angry?”  
  
“When you found out I was using you as some sort of replacement.”  
  
“Connor, I’ve known all along,” said Danny softly. “I’m not stupid. But I think we’ve already established that I’m in no position to judge. Let’s just say that both our judgements were impaired, and leave it at that, shall we?”  
  
Connor nodded gratefully. “Okay. But I _am_ sorry.”  
  
“And I’m sorry too. Now, perhaps we could start again from the beginning? What about that drink I mentioned?”  
  
“Sounds good.” Connor was smiling properly now, and Danny allowed himself a tiny hope that _maybe_ things would work out all right.  
  
“Great.” Hesitantly, he reached out and brushed a few strands of hair from Connor’s forehead, a couple of them snagging for a moment on the square of gauze covering his stitches. Then he stepped back as Connor once more hopped down from the bed, and followed the younger man out of the infirmary.  
  
He wasn’t sure yet whether they’d both come out of this unscathed, but they seemed to be on the right track now. And he hoped it was towards something wonderful.


End file.
